Commitment (63 page)

“I want to see the Dalai Lama,”
Riley
insisted.
“He may be the most spiritually pure person of our time.”

“Says who?” Tracy sniffed.
“This just looks like a lot of hype to me.”

“Okay well let’s it’s too late to decide you don’t want to be here, so let’s just find a place to sit.”

They found a tree to sit under,
which was perfect since the infamous Washington D.C. humidity
had begun
to
rear its head
,
and spread out the blanket
Riley
had brought for that purpose, stretching
out on it.
They people-watched for awhile and Tracy took o
ut a book she’d brought along.
Riley
remembered she hadn’t called Shawn
as
she’d promised
and her phone was in the hotel room
.

“Tracy, got your
cell
?”

Tracy motioned in the direction of her bag and
Riley
dug inside unt
il she found it.
She dialed the apartment but there was no answer, so she called Shawn’s
mobile.
Instead of his voice she heard a recording telling her that the wireless number she had reached was no longer i
n service.
She tried aga
in and got the same recording.
Weird.
Had he forgotten to pay his bill or something?

“Tracy what’s Brendan’s number?”

She looked up from her book.
“What’s the matter?”

“Shawn’s
number is no longer in service.
Brendan might know how to reach him.”

“I don’t know it by heart
—
look in my
contacts
.”

Brendan
picked up almost immediately.

“It’s
Riley
, Brendan.
Shawn with you?”

“Yeah.
You okay
?
”

“Yeah, I’m fine
.”

“How’s Tracy?”

Riley
grinned.
“She’s fine.
You want to say hi?”

Tracy gave
Riley
a weary look, but
Riley
noticed she didn’t hesitate to take the phone either.

“Hey Brendan,” she said.
Her voic
e had changed, just a tiny bit.
She probably
didn’t even notice it herself
.
“Uh huh . . . no, I’m fine
. . . yup.
I won’t, but if
Riley
has me out in this sun all
day . . . okay.  Okay.
Sure.”
She handed the phone back to
Riley
who put a hand over the mouthpiece.

“That was quick,” she said, eyebrows raised.

“
Shut up.
”
Tracy looked back down into her book.

“Hello?”

“
Riley
?”
It was Shawn now.

“Sorry I didn’t call earlier,”
she said.
“I got caught up . . . and by the way, w
hat’s going on with your phone?
I called and
it said
it was out of service.”

“Ahm
,
I changed the number,” he said.

Riley
wrinkled her brow.
“Why?” 

“Because I thought I lost
it
,” he said.
“I
forgot to tell you about that.
Here’s the new number . . .”

“Give it to me when I get home.
I’ll just call Brendan if I n
eed you.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know I got here fine.”

“So what time you coming home tomorrow?”

“Don’t know.”

“Come back early,” he said.

She wanted to ask why but was afraid of how that would
sound
.
S
he’d already used up her
‘
bitch
quota’ for the day
with her
smart-ass remark this morning.
And he was bei
ng so patient with her
lately.
Uncharacteristically patient.
Something wasn’t right.
On the one hand he was over
ly attentive when he was around
and on the other hand, he t
ried not to be around too much.
And of course,
there was
the sex thing—
or in this case, the lack of sex thing.

“Okay.
See you tomorrow.”

“A’ight.”

They hung up and
Riley
held the phone for a moment longer, struggling with the urge to call him back,
interrogate him if she had to and
find out once and for
all what the hell was going on.

“What’s the matter?
”
Tracy
looked up from her book again.
“You’re sitting there with your mouth open like you’re trying to catch flies or something.”

“
I was thinking.”

“What about?
”

“
Shawn’s been acting really weird
.”
She leaned in closer
.
“Y’know the last time we
had sex
was
before Houston
?”

Tracy s
hrugged.
“
Honeymoon’s over, Riley.”

“No,” Riley shook her head. “That’s not it. I mean, sometimes Shawn is like a twice-a-day type of brother, if you know what I mean.”

Tracy laughed. “Oh, it’s like
that
is it?”

Riley blushed. “Not twice
every day
. . .”

“I would hope not. How the hell could you walk, if that were the case.” Then for a moment a troubled look crossed Tracy’s face and she quickly looked down at her book. “
When you get home Sunday, put on something sexy, give him a
massage
, get him all hot and bothered and when you finally break down his resistance scream and moan like you neve
r screamed and moaned before.
He’ll be fine after that.”

Riley
laughed
.

“I’m telling you, girl.
It’ll work.”

“Yeah.
Right.”

“Fine,”
Tracy started reading again.
“You’re the one who’s not getting any, so I wouldn’t knock it
till I tried it if I were you. Besides, every couple goes through dry spells. And with all the bickering you guys have been doing lately . . .”

“It’s not that,” Riley said with certainty.

The worst fight she and Shawn had ever had was after the Sony party and even then, the night had ended up with some of the best sex they’d ever had.

No, s
omething was
definitely
wrong.
Maybe he was still punishing her. And they still hadn’t had the conversation they needed to have; the conversation where he would tell her once and for all why he’d wanted to hurt her that night. He’d said he was sorry, but she still didn’t have an explanation.

The rally turned out to be a colossal disappointment. The spiritual epiphany Riley had been hoping for at the sight of the Dalai Lama didn’t happen. Perhaps the fact that all she actually saw was one corner of his crimson robe had something to do with it. That, and the fact that she didn’t exactly hear him either. As he was speaking, a group of what looked like college kids nearby was enjoying the effects of what looked like a very small joint, pretending to be much higher than they really were.

Tracy seemed content to read her book through the whole thing.
Riley
felt
a
strange
heaviness in her head, a feeling that was needling her, a thought that she couldn’t quite pull from her subconscious and make coherent.

“Well, look at this,” Tracy said suddenly.

Riley looked at her. Tracy was holding up her phone for Riley to see.

“Guess who’s in DC too?”

“Richard Gere,” Riley said dryly.

“Well, undoubtedly. But I was talking about Brian.
He just texted me.
”

Riley sat up, alert now. Tracy noted her reaction but said nothing.

“Where is he?”

“Staying at a friend’s place in Dupont Circle. He wants to know if we want to stop by for a drink.”

“He came for the rally?”

Tracy shrugged.

Riley smiled, knowing that he probably had. She and Brian had talked about his spirituality a lot and he said that Buddhism was the belief system he most identified with. She should have known that he would be here. The thought gave her pause. Did she know he was likely to be here? Was that why she’d wanted to come?
She tried to recall whether he’d mentioned it the last time they saw each other at the Toni Morrison reading.

It was true that she was running out of excuses to keep spending time with him. And he, too, might feel as though it took something as momentous as a Toni Morrison reading to
justify
a call to her.

“Let’s go,” Riley said.

Tracy looked at her, seemingly uncertain. “Okay,” she said after a moment.

Brian’s friend was a fraternity brother
, who already had a couple years of law practi
ce under his belt
.
When they arrived, they found that the quiet drink they had in mind was probably not going to happened. His
red brick Dupont Circle townhome was filled with people dancing to nineties music and holding bottles of expensive beer. Tracy and Riley made their way through the throng, looking for Brian. They finally found him, standing among a group
of good-looking guys who looked like they spent
their days on Capitol Hill and their nights making irresponsible decisions at house parties like this one.

Brian was
clearly
already drunk and as soon as he caught sight of Riley and Tracy yoked one arm around each of them and planted wet kisses on their cheeks. Tracy pulled back and wiped it away while one of Brian’s friends stepped in to introduce himself. Riley looked at Brian, amused but pleased to see him having such a good time.

“Wow. I’m guessing you didn’t waste too much time on the Mall today,” she said. “Started drinking as soon as the clock struck noon is my guess.”

“Noon?” Brian said, pulling her into the crook of his arm. “Try ten a.m.”

“Better to get it out of your system now,” Riley said. “Soon you’ll have to be a responsible citizen up in Albany. Righting the wrongs in the world.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Brian said loudly. “I want to dance with my girl!” Then he stopped and theatrically put a hand over his mouth. “Oops. I forgot. You’re someone else’s girl now. C’mon, let’s dance.”
He dragged her with him
to the dance floor in the middle of a living room cleared of furniture
and they started moving to the music.

As if someone had diabolically cued it up, the song playing was ‘Missing.’ As they danced, the words rang in Riley’s ears “
And I miss you . . .  like the deserts miss the rain.”
Brian put his hands on her hips as they danced. 

“You found some better place . . . and I miss you, yeah, like the deserts miss the rain,” he sang in her ear.

Riley danced out of his reach and tried not to attach too much significance to the words. That this song was on was one of those cruel coincidences that the universe seemed to have an insatiable appetite for. As she spun and moved, she caught sight of Tracy who was being talked up by Brian’s friend but who seemed interested only in watching
them
on the dance floor.

Riley turned away from her and held Brian’s arm. “Let’s stop,” she shouted over the music.

Brian agreed without protest and danced toward the
bar, getting them both a beer.
He handed one to her and knocked his bottle against hers. He was flushed and a little breathless from the dancing; he looked down at her with such affection in his eyes Riley suddenly felt she was doing something wrong
just
by
standing at the bar
with him. She smiled at him and he took her free hand, placing it on his cheek. She left it there and he closed his eyes, turning his face to kiss her on the palm.

Riley pulled away as though he’d stung her, shaking her head.